December Can Be Warm
by CrazyReader1899
Summary: Tony thought he was a normal 21st century foster kid, but it turns out he's an important 1900 newsie with a family. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Newsies, no matter how much I wish.

(July 2014)

He woke up from yet another weird dream, the girl was there again. He wasn't complaining, she was pretty. She had long brown hair that looked red in the sunlight and black in he dark. She had soft ice blue eyes that sparkled.

She usually showed up in something like a memory or something. Yesterday, she was sitting on the grass in a short sleeved white dress that ended above her ankles. She wasn't wearing any shoes, and her hair was curly like she'd just taken her hair out of a braid. She had a book in her lap, that she seemed really into.

Then,he or at least someone who looked like him, except he was wearing clothes that looked like they were from the 1900's,sat next to her and kissed her head, her cheek, and then her lips. She kissed him back,he pulled her into his lap, his arms wrapping around her waist, her's around his neck.

Another guy,this one not a clone of his. He had dirty blond eyes and ice cold blue eyes. Although he obviously knew them. And when he approached them he'd said something along the lines of, " Race get off me'se sister," then they quickly sprung apart. His clone looked terrified, the girl rolled her eyes and as if to defy the blond haired blue eyed boy, otherwise known as her brother, planted one on him.

That's when he woke up. Looking at the time, he quickly got ready, grabbed my bag, and rushed downstairs. Tony hurried into the kitchen, grabbing an apple, then ran outside, not wanting to deal with idiots,on this particular morning.

Tony sat down on the curb, eating my apple while waiting for Max to show up. When he finished my apple, he threw it out in a nearby garbage can.

When he sat back down, his mind wandered to his new home, and what it would be like. You see Tony would be the first one to move to a new orphanage, he would be the first there, and would be for a while.

He looked up when he heard a honk.

"Hey, Tony, c'mon get in kid," Max called. He opened the passenger door and got in, closing the door after he got in.

"Hey," Tony said as Max pressed on the gas pedal.

"Hey, you excited?"

"Yeah I'se guess," he answered.

He stared out the window, watching the scenery go by.

" Hey we're her kiddo," Max said, stopping the car. The building which they had stopped in front was older than the surrounding ones, it had a faded sign on which you could only see an, n,s,o,g,o,e. Somehow he knew it once said 'Newsboys Lodging House', just like how he knew the boy with the blue eyes was the girl in his dream's brother, and how the dream girl's name was December.

Max and he walked into the building. He felt like he had been here a million times before.

" Hi, there you must be Tony, I'm John Kloppman. I am the caretaker of this facility as was my father, and my grandfather," an old man said, popping up behind the welcome desk.

"Well, if everything's settled I should get going. Bye Tony," Max said heading out the door.

"Bye Max," Tony said.

"Come with me please, Tony," John said.

Tony followed John up the stairs and into a large room, filled with bunk beds, connected to a bathroom.

"Wait, there's something else. Come with me," John then led him to the attic. It was completely empty, besides a huge chest against the far wall.

"Go ahead and then you can go set up your bunk," he smiled slyly and winked at him, then he left.

Tony walked over to the chest. You could clearly see the initials D.C had once been there but an H hand been scratched over the C. He opened it and peeked inside.

There was a checkered gold vest, with a gold pocket watch tucked into one of the pockets. There was a gold-tipped cane, a cord with a key on it, a silver ring with a topaz diamond shaped like a snowflake. A black cowboy hat, a couple of newsie caps, a wooden sword and an eye patch. then there were a couple of newspaper articles most written by a Bryan Denton. One was an obituary for someone named Bumlets. There was an article about a newsie couple (December and Racetrack). And on the bottom, there was a couple of pictures, most featured December, Racetrack and a group of was an article on the bottom with a picture of the same group of boys and December and Racetrack.

He realized then and there that he was Racetrack Higgins.

And everything turned black.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Newsies, no matter how hard I wish. Sorry about the long waits. I just, don't always feel like writing them.**

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_Hi, I'm Narrator, and I'll be the one telling you this story. But like all stories I must start with the beginning. Now, December Conlon and Racetrack Higgins' love story is one of the greats. It all started December 1st, 1887._

Racetrack, only five, was scurrying back to the lodging house. He'd only been on the job for a month, he didn't want the guys to think he couldn't sell. Especially, since Brooklyn was the toughest borough, in New York.

He heard a noise suddenly. It was coming from an alley. It sounded like a whimper.

"Anyone dere?" he called still standing at the mouth of the alley.

"Please," a small voice called.

Racetrack, quickly ran into the alleyway, to where a big lump was. This turned out to actually be, a small girl, more like a toddler, sitting over, a boy about Racetrack's age.

"My brudah," the small girl looked up at him.

Racetrack kneeled down next to her. The boy had a large spot on his cheek. Blood covered his clothes.

"What happened?" he asked the small girl.

"We'se gots ambushed," the boy spoke up.

"C'mon, I'll take you to the Lodging house, we'll get you fixed up," he helped the boy up, and the girl grabbed two bags he hadn't noticed before.

"They didn't take your stuff?" he questioned.

"Sean hid dem wit me in a box," the little girl said, from beside her brother.

"What your name miter?" she asked.

" Racetrack," she laughed.

"Dats a funny name," she told him.

"Aoife (pronounced ee-fya) don't be rude," her brother, didn't want her to be rude to the kind boy who was kindly helping them.

" I'm sawy," she put her head down.

"It's alright dat ain't me real name. Racetrack's me Newsie name. Me'se real name's Anthony," he told the girl.

"Me name's Sean, and dat right d'ere's Aoife," her brother explained to the brown haired boy.

"How old you'se?" Racetrack asked the dirty blond, ice cold blue eyed siblings.

"Five," Sean told him.

" I jus' turned four, today," the little girl held up four fingers.

"I'se five, also," Racetrack told them.

They started to approach a beat up looking building, with a paint peeling door, "Now you'se goin' ta need Newsie names. You'se gonna be Spot, and you'se little miss Aoife, you're Decembah' from now on," he told them.

December ran forwards, opened the door, and stepped into her new life.

_Racetrack showed them the ropes once Spot started to get better. Spot had a talk with the leader of Brooklyn, a kind but tough Newsie; Water, that December would go to school once of age. Meanwhile, Racetrack and Spot taught her how to read. The other Newsies got the message NOT to mess with December, this was made clear by Water, the minute she'd stepped through the door._

_Race and Spot were the best of friends, and December had made a friend: a girl called Raven. She was a birdie for Water. She was five. _

1892, June, 6th

"You'se can't leave Race!" Spot exclaimed as he watched him pack up.

"I gotta, Spot," he told his best friend.

"But, we'se family Race," December burst in. It was fairly known that she had a crush on the half Italian-half Irish boy, except to him, and her brother.

"Don't worry _Piccolo Fiore _(**AN: little flower in Italian, according to Google translate. Feel free to correct me if it's wrong**), we'll see each oder _all _de time," he told her.

"But, why ya gotta leave Racey?" tears shone in her ice blue eyes.

"Dere's people who don' want me here, and dey wanna hoit me. I'se gotta go to Manhattan, _Piccolo Fiore_," he told her picking up his bag. Her eyes were killing him.

"Why do they wanna hoit ya, Racey?"

" I beat 'em at pokah' and deys ain't happy 'bout dat," he pressed a kiss to her forehead, shook hands with Spot, and left.

After this, December retreated to the roof, where she painted. She painted the Brooklyn harbour, with paints her art teacher was kind enough to give her. He knew about her situation and thought it was a real shame to waste such talent, all because of money and class.

After Racetrack left, Spot tried to keep her more sheltered from the Newsie world. He felt she was better than it. He kept her studying and made her go and see her richer friends. Which did cause a drift between December and Raven, who eventually also moved to Manhattan. They'd still meet up for lunch every Friday though.

Spot's protectiveness worsened when he became leader, three years later, at which point he decided to send her away, back to Ireland to live with their aunt and uncle.

_August, 15th, 1896_

" What're you doing Sean?" she'd just gotten back from school to see him packing her things up.

"You'se goin' back to Ireland, jus' for da year. Things is gettin' worse an' I'se don' want you heah, " he explained.

"WHAT THE HELL SEAN CONLON," she screamed. She was so tired of him trying to protect her," I'm not that four year old, you have to constantly protect Sean! I'm fourteen. I get that mom-"

He cut her off," DO NOT bring them into this! Aoife Conlon, you are going and that is final!" she ran out of the room they shared and ran down the stairs. She then swung the door open and ran outside. She only stopped when she'd reached the bridge, where she broke down and sobbed.

She sobbed about her brother, her parents, and the fact that she hadn't talked to Race in three years.

Somebody approached her," A pretty gal like you shouldn't be out here by herself," two men approached her.

They were bowler hats, and one had a stupid mustache. She'd seen them harassing Newsies when she'd gone to lunch in Manhattan.

"Just getting some air," she whipped her tears and turned to face them fully.

They got closer," We've seen you around. You're Raven's little friend right?" the one without the mustache asked.

But he didn't give her time to answer, as the mustache one grabbed her hands from behind, and held them there, as non-mustached leaned in. So close she could smell his awful breath.

"We're gonna send a message through you," he kissed her, hard.

She struggled, and when he pulled away, he backhand slapped her across the face. And when she screamed out he kicked her in the stomach.

"Hey! Get off 'er scabs," her hands were dropped, and she slumped to the ground.

"Hey, it's alright, dey's gone now," she'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"Racey?"she asked, as he came to sit next to her.

She looked up at him, " _Piccolo Fiore_?" he asked, his voice cracking.

She quickly nodded, and he pulled her into a fierce embrace.

"Why's you'se out heah'?"

" I-I, Spot's sending me away, Racey," she sobbed into his chest.

"Why?"

"He says it's not safe, and so he's sending me off to Ireland, to live with our aunt and uncle for a year," she explained, "I've missed you, Racey," she softly said.

"Me too. Whenever I'se sees your bruddah you'se nevah wid 'em. And you'se know I'se try ta only come ta Brooklyn for da Racetrack. Brooklyn boys suah as hell can hold a grudge," she laughed into his chest, " But hey, we'se'll send lettahs' alright, no moah' like befoah'. I've missed ya so much," he picked her up.

"What're you doin' Racey?" she asked, yawning.

"Taken' ya home _Piccolo Fiore_."

"Racey, thanks a lot. I love you," she burrowed her face deeper in his strong chest.

"Me too _Piccolo Fiore. _Me too," and with that she closed her eyes, drifting off to the sound of Racetrack's heartbeat_. _

"What the hell are you doing with my sister Higgins?!" a door slammed, which caused December to wake up with a start. She burrowed herself deeper into Racetrack.

"Look, da Delanceys ambushed 'er," he explained, knowing December couldn't.

"But why? Deys wouldn't harass a random gal. Had me boidees trail 'em foah a week, deys only harass goils linked wit da Newsies. And no one 'sides you, Jacky boy, Kid, and me bois knows 'bout 'Cembers existance. And all does people wouldn't dare squeal. Dey's knows what I'se do to dem if deys evah' do," Spot stated.

"I- I'd go over and have lunch with Raven sometimes," December spoke up softly.

Spot's eyes darkened, "I'se told you to stay away."

"You cannot control me Sean Conlon," her eyes set with what was called the 'Conlon look of determination'; you knew all hope was lost when they whipped that out.

" I'm your oldah bruddah, I have ta protect ya Aoife," he wasn't standing down either.

"Spot lay off would ya? Goil's already been trough 'nough t'night," Racetrack stuck up for her.

"Racetrack dis ain't none of yer buisness," Spot spoke, almost coldly.

"Spot, stop, please. I'll go to Ireland, okay? But only for a year," she agreed.

It was a few hours later when December finally let go of Racetrack. She walked him to the door and pressed her lips to his cheek. He swiftly left after this interaction, which left them both red-faced. The next day she left for Ireland.

She did, in fact, stay for a year. She missed Racetrack, and Spot of course. She and her brother had never been apart for this long in her life. Although she and Racetrack exchanged letters as often as possible, and Spot almost as much. She was sad that year. New York was her home, and she'd make it clear to Spot that the Newsie world was her world also, even if she did have a higher education than your average Newsie, they were her family.

She'd make sure to make this fact clear to Spot when she got back...

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**Hope you enjoyed :). **

**P.S. Edits have been made to the last chapter and this one.**

**~ Sincerely, **_**CrazyReader1899**_


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